


It Feels Like I'm Starting All Over Again

by FreshBrains



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Community: tw_promptmeme, Friendship, Gen, Sad Bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-22 00:46:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/pseuds/FreshBrains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Don't you dare cry, because then he'll cry and we'll be a couple of crying losers and I'll never leave.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Feels Like I'm Starting All Over Again

**Author's Note:**

> In response to this prompt on the Non-Sterek section of the tw_promptmeme on LJ:
> 
> _**Danny, Jackson** \- Gen. He thought saying goodbye to Lydia would hurt him the most but saying goodbye to Danny was far worse._

"So," Jackson exhaled, clapping his palms together and leaning against his father's car. "I guess this is it, then."

Danny nodded, scuffing the gravel on the side of the driveway with the toe of his shoe. "Yeah, I guess it is."

Lydia had already left--she didn't stay long, and when she walked to her car on shaky legs, Jackson saw her rub tears away with the back of her wrist. Danny had this look on his face like he wanted to run after her, like he wanted to cry with her, and Jackson hated that look because it drove him and his wolf completely crazy and he didn't know why. The fact that his wolf wanted Lydia, wanted to protect her from the advances of anyone else, made him laugh, because it was _Danny_ and they'd all played in the sandbox together when they were three, but it also made him ache. He was hurting Lydia, and Danny cared more than he did.

Danny lingered around, helping with boxes and suitcases, updating Mrs. Whittemore on how his sisters were doing, joking around with Mr. Whittemore in a way Jackson couldn't anymore. His parents hugged Danny and teased him and spoke to him like he was their second child, their sweeter and funnier and _easier_ child. Danny was always like that. He was easier to be around. When he walked into Jackson's house, he knew exactly what to do--he helped with dishes, played with the dogs, kept his shoes off the carpet, commented on new drapes or picture frames, he did everything that Jackson was supposed to do with the kind of ease Jackson never had. 

But this time, Danny, Danny with his easy smiles and laughter and kind eyes, looked like he was crawling out of his own skin, like he had no idea what to do. He kept glancing up at Jackson's bedroom window, like he was expecting to see a sign that read "Jokes on you Dumbass!!" in Jackson's messy handwriting, and then they would go to the field and practice for a few hours before getting pissed at each other and wrestle until someone called uncle, and then Danny's mother would twist Jackson's arm to make him come over for dinner (which he loved anyways, arm-twisting aside), and then they'd read stupid posts on Reddit and roll their eyes at each others hookup stories ( _"Bullshit, he's so out of your league," "Oh, you're a douche, she'd never let you put your tongue there"_ ), and then things would be fine and normal and nothing would have to change.

But Jackson had a dufflebag slung over his shoulder and sunglasses over his eyes, his passport peeking out of his shirt pocket. There was no joke. 

In a few minutes, he would be _gone_ , and he and his wolf were howling with how hard it was.

"You're really doing this, aren't you?" Danny asked one more time.

"Yep," Jackson said curtly, running a hand through his hair. "I really am."

"You know this is the last chance you have to tell me the truth. You don't have to bullshit me anymore, I'm your best friend." Danny shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I'm not bullshitting you," Jackson said, but even he heard how lame it sounded. "Danny, please, don't do this now. I don't want to leave with you pissed at me, okay?"

"I'm not pissed," Danny grumbled stubbornly. They quieted as Mr. Whittemore passed them with another box to load into the truck, avoiding each other's eyes.

When his father was back inside, Jackson finally looked up at Danny. He swallowed hard and bit the inside of his lip until he tasted blood. _Don't you dare cry, because then he'll cry and we'll be a couple of crying losers and I'll never leave_. "Come here, man, I should get going."

Danny nodded and leaned in and they hugged, not one of the half-assed bro hugs they'd adopted over the years but a full-on hug, Jackson's hands curled in the fabric of Danny's shirt, clinging to his oldest friend like he never wanted to let go. 

"I'm really, really going to miss you," he said quietly, and Danny's arms tightened around him.

"I know. I'll miss you too," he responded, his voice thick with tears.

They pulled away, no awkwardness between them, except for the tears they were still trying to hide. Danny opened the passenger door for Jackson and as Jackson climbed in, he gave Danny one last squeeze on the arm. 

"See you around, buddy," Danny said over what was absolutely not a sniffle. 

Jackson smiled, smirking, the classic Jackson, and it felt right. But as his dad started the engine, he sobered. "Danny, take care of her for me, okay?"

Danny nodded. He didn't even have to ask. "Of course. We'll be fine."

And then Jackson's father pulled out the driveway, and the boys parted, waving at each other until the car turned the corner.

*

Later that night, after Danny spent time totally not crying alone in his bedroom, he stopped to fill his sister's tank at the station and saw Lydia coming out of the station, in the same sweet pink dress and a much pinker, puffier face.

They glanced at each other and both hesitated, like they weren't ready to open that can of worms, but she walked over to him and offered him a small smile. "When did he leave?"

Danny shrugged. "Not too long after you did."

She nodded, her famous Lydia confidence drained out of her. "How are you doing?"

Danny shrugged again. "Honestly, I've been better."

Lydia smiled. "At least you two parted as best friends still. Things were kind of weird between us at the end, I'm not sure he even wanted me there." Her eyes glassed up, but she quickly blinked the tears away.

Danny's chest ached. "He wanted you there, Lydia. He loves you. The last thing he said to me was to take care of you."

Lydia looked at him, her eyes softened. Then she smiled, and let out a small laugh. Danny smiled with her--it was hard to remember sometimes that they used to be closer when they were little, they used to play house and color and run around outside, Danny in a Super Man tee shirt and Lydia in braids. "You know what, Danny, that's weird that he said that."

"Why?"

She gave him a squeeze on the arm, right on the spot where Jackson's hand was earlier. "He told me the exact same thing."

**Author's Note:**

> Fic title comes from "Goodbye to You" by Michelle Branch. Don't even front, you fucking love this song.


End file.
